Category: Hats

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My Harlequin Cape, On The Flip-Side

Look at the bigly paisles on my Shirt o’ the Day, and feast your eyes on yet another Art Deco-style Tie o’ the Day. My Cape o’ the Day is, indeed, the soaring punctuation to my attire that I dreamed it would be. All the capes Suzanne has crafted for me (except the prototype) are reversible, which suits me just fine. A two-fer is more than just a nice bonus. In a way, the two-fer aspect speaks to my bipolar brain. My brain can change on a proverbial dime, and I can change the sides of my cape just as quickly. Although Suzanne has made me a gaggle of snazzy capes over the years, she hasn’t made me a new cape in the last 3 years—and I think it’s about time. I don’t know whether to ask her to make me a flannel cape for what’s left of winter, or a seersucker cape for the coming summer. But I am I, so I’m sure I’ll ask for both. And she is she, so I’m sure she’ll make me both. It’s how we roll. 😘

I had a blast wearing my cape today. I wore it around the house for a while. I twirled around in it rapidly, so it would hover in the air—making it appear that I was flying in circles, sideways. Later, when I had to drop something off at the FedEx inside Walmart, I swooshed through the automatic doors as if I were the only person in Walmart wearing a cape—which, of course, I was. I knew that everywhere I went to do errands, I would likely be the only person—adult or kid—wearing a cape. It was such fun for me to wear, and I was sad and teary for everyone else who had to go cape-less. 😢

I hope I never grow up.😁 👶

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Same New Shirt, Different Piece o’ Neckwear

For my grocery shopping venture over to Dick’s Market to pay way too much for the same ol’ food items this afternoon, I switched out my flower-power bow tie for an Art Deco Tie o’ the Day. I, of course, like this look more than this morning’s offering. This more closely resembles me: not so matchy, and a few watts brighter to the eye. The look gives off an entirely different vibe than today’s earlier bow tie, and this feel is more hip than hippie.

My denim jacket kind of dulls the bright look, rather than enhances it. I don’t have a coat collection, and I’m not gonna start one. But I should probably keep an eye out for a couple of coats/jackets that are more on my desired level of bigly eye-poppity. I need outerwear that adds to my fashion aesthetic, not diminishes it. Oh, wait—I have all my Suzanne-made capes, and they’re giving me ideas even as I type this!

As you can see from the picture, I had a run-in with the cereal aisle. It was a mistake to turn up that aisle, and it was a daunting struggle for yours truly. (Next to ice cream, unhealthy cereal is my fave junky food to eat.) Lent is really starting to bug me. How in the world can I be expected to keep from eating anything remotely in the neighborhood of junk food for a few more weeks, especially when there is a new sugarfest product I haven’t yet tried: Froot Loops with MARSHMALLOWS? Somehow, I finally found it in me to successfully keep all the boxes of Froot Loops with marshmallows out of my shopping cart, but I know I’ll find myself standing in front of them again on my next trip to Dick’s. Can I manage to do without this sugary product until Lent has been Lented out? I’m not sure. 🍇🍋🍊🍓🍒

I can tell you right now that the Froot Loops with marshmallows are going to be either extremely yummy or extremely gacky. There will be no middle ground as far as this combo of taste will go. That’s usually what happens when an already-perfect product exists, and its makers decide to tweak it: response to the new changeling edible goes off the charts as a bigly thumbs-up, or it crashes with a bigly, splatty thumbs-down 👍👎🕳. It’s gonna be either a mic drop or a hard pass. 🎤🏈 I can’t wait to taste-test the colorful, nutritionless rings and their accompanying marshmallow sidekicks. After Lent, of course. I hope I survive the remainder of these sugarless, saltless, ridiculously healthier days. No matter what, for Lent next year, I’m definitely giving up Lent.

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My New Shirt

I got a new Shirt o’ the Day yesterday, and I knew exactly which Bow Tie o’ the Day I should pair it with. At the risk of being too matchy, I think they work well together. So much so that the resulting effect leaves me speechless, er, wordless. The text of this post is already too long. Just gaze for a long, peaceful moment at the totality of the hippie vibes, and lose yourself in the psychedelic. 🍄

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It’s A Bright, Cold Day In The Neighborhood

Ukraine blue-and-yellow Tie o’ the Day and I spent some time squinting outside in the chilly sun this afternoon, as I de-pooped the backyard—cleaning up after the little poop factory we call Skitter. It is my firm belief that one should treat every activity like a bigly event and dress up for it. 👔🎩👛 Trust me, you’ll enjoy whatever you’re doing just a tad bit more.

I thought of posting a picture of the now-full, clear bread bag I used for the Great De-pooping Reset o’ the yard—as evidence of what I really did this afternoon. Fortunately, I like y’all a whole bunch, so I didn’t. I saved you from seeing that particular visual aid. Emojis will have to do. 🗑💩

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This Post Has No Title, But Thanks

Thank you to all of you fine folks who took the time to send me birthday greetings yesterday. I will have you know that I wore my birthday suit under my showy clothes all day—as I have done every day for the last 58 years. My birthday suit gets a bit wrinklier each year, but it’s still in pretty good shape.

Every year—as I grow more ancient—my birthday feels more like Thanksgiving to me than Thanksgiving itself does. My birthday is a day I feel beyond appreciative of the people I have come across in my life: people who have nurtured me, taught me, laughed at my jokes, tolerated me, encouraged my personal eccentricities, and just plain loved li’l ol’ me—some of whom I have never even met in person. I live a fantastic and rich life, and I have worked hard for it. But I am well aware I did not get what I have—or get where I am—all by myself. Nobody makes a wonderful life on their own. Although some people don’t want to admit it, we are all connected. We make ourselves better when we look out for each other. If you think you are alone in this adventure called life, please correct your thinking. You are not, nor have you ever been, alone. I am honored to be here on this planet with you. I carry you with me in the pockets of my heart, and you help to make me stronger. So thanks again to you all, my pals. 🏋️‍♀️

Have a groovy weekend, boys and girls! I’ll post again Monday morning. Be there, or be square. 🔲

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Tunes During A March Snowstorm

I gave myself a pre-birthday present last night. I dragged Suzanne to a concert at the Eccles Theater in SLC. She knew next to nothing about the band we went to see: Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit. Shawn Colvin opened for them, which was great because she played solo—just Shawn and her voice and her guitar. She somehow made her guitar sound like an entire band. Yup, she plays that well. She is one of my all-time fave songwriters and has been for the last 30 years. Jason Isbell, on the other hand, is a recent discovery of mine. He plays a wild guitar, but I am most enamored of his songwriting skills. I have wide and eclectic taste in music, but there is one thing the artists I love to listen to have in common. They are generally superior songwriters. As a working poet, that makes complete sense to me. Words are music, too.

I often wear my wood guitar Bow Tie o’ the Day when I’m headed to a concert, and last night was not an exception. Excuse my uncouth Mask o’ the Evening, but my inner mode is sarcastic. I also wore my cassette tape “GOOD VIBES” lapel pin to the event.

All the usual concert types were there. You know, the group of women who didn’t open their mouths before the show, but as soon as the concert started, they immediately began talking too loudly—especially during the softer tunes. And, of course, there was the couple who just had to stand up and dance right in front of us, while holding their beers—which sloshed around and sprinkled the rest of us as they danced, kissed, and played air guitar. Remember lighters at concerts? Well, that was me last night: I wore my Bic lighter Cufflinks o’ the Evening in homage to concerts-back-in-the-olden-days.

We had a swell night out, despite the fact that Suzanne does not particularly like twang in her music. She told me more than once that she enjoyed the concert. And I almost believe her.

BTW I will be presenting some bigly news regarding TIE O’ THE DAY in tomorrow’s A.M. post. Don’t miss it, y’all.

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Imagine Me Showing Up At Your Front Door

As y’all know, TIE O’ THE DAY—which is I— is a bigly believer in being kind whenever possible. It is my belief that most people don’t hear they are loved and precious nearly as often as they ought to hear it, as they move through this wild world of good-hearted, but fallible, human beings.

In many situations, the way you dress can aid in expressing to a person you spend time with that you care. Consider the Tie o’ the Day and Hat o’ the Day I wore this morning. I am a proud University of Utah supporter, but I drove to Provo this morning to spend some time with my nephew, Travis. If you know Travis, you know he bleeds BYU Cougar blue—and I suspect BYU blue blood is likely a literal condition where he’s concerned. So I donned my blue-and-white argyle tie and threw on a blue-and-white flat cap for the occasion.

You see, Travis might think I’m eccentric. He might think I’m obnoxious with my ties and bow ties. He might think I’m that nutty aunt who defies all explanation to anyone outside the family. But when I flaunt my BYU colors in his presence, there are a few things of which Travis can always be assured with me: 1. I know who he is at his deepest core, and I know what he values. 2. I love him and want him to see the evidence. That’s how much he means to me. When I showed up at his door in my blue-and-white accessories, he had to know immediately I had thought about him with purpose before I even left my house to meet up with him. We had a fine chat, even if it was in BYU territory.

As always, Go Utes!

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Whatever It Takes

Well, it is the second day o’ Lent 2022, during which I am sacrificing junk food—particularly sweets— for the 40* days Lent lasts. I have not cheated—except for absentmindedly taking two Tums last night before I remembered they have sugar in them. I don’t think that counts as officially cheating since Tums is a medicine, and I didn’t mean to consume that little bit o’ sugar. I can also report that I am still very much alive so far, although I’m feeling kind of forlorn. I’ve got 38* days to go.

Yesterday, I de-sweeted the house by dumping the remainder of my Honey Smacks cereal. I also threw out my stash of chocolate licorice (blasphemy) and licorice licorice. Getting rid of chocolate licorice was a horrid blow to my innards. It also almost killed me to jettison my annual Whoppers malted milk Easter eggs candy. The freezer is now barren of all ice cream. If I am not an ice cream fiend, who am I? I am so lost and discombobulated. The sweet-less me is like a fish out of water: I can hardly breathe. I fear I will start to flop around on the ground any day now. Just who the Hell-en am I supposed to be for the next 38* days?

Ultimately, I suppose I will survive this junk food self-ban by clinging to my neckwear even more obsessively than I already do—if that’s even possible. I will have to fill my junky-food-less time by scribbling more poetry and fiction than I already routinely do. And I will certainly amp up my reading habit accordingly. I will keep up with posting my TIE O’ THE DAY whatever-it-is tblog. And I will, of course, continue to romp outside and inside with Skitter. So, in effect, I will be in my usual Heaven, but without snacks of any kind. It’s a good thing “one day at a time” is a key mantra I believe in. 😇😏

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It’s My Signature Pattern

Maybe you missed the fact, but please know that I have a soul-deep attachment to paisley. This photo is evidence of my truth. The paisley Tie o’ the Day, Shirt o’ the Day, Face Mask o’ the Day, and Hat o’ the Day are my kind o’ snazzy. For the most part, I have ceased wearing face masks. However, I think this mask adds to the point I’m making in this post: it’s all about the paisley. Do not be askeered, however. I have no intention of posting pix of my paisley Underwear o’ the Day. I do have some scruples, you know.😜

FYI Stay tuned for this afternoon’s post about how I’m handling a treat-free Lent. Hint: So far, it hasn’t been pretty.

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It’s Mardi Gras

I figured I should acknowledge Mardi Gras, if only because I’ve been busy today thinking about what I should give up for Lent tomorrow. What I really want to give up for 40 days is my sobriety, but that would sort of defeat the purpose. Actually, it would defeat a bunch of purposes. Nah, I will be giving up something else for 40 days. I’m not sure what it will be. I’m thinking giving up sweets would be a sacrifice for me, but my birthday is next week and I can’t justify breaking Suzanne’s heart by not eating whatever birthday dessert she will want to feed me. Still, I’d kind of like to test my mettle and see if I could go without sweets for 40 days.

I know it would be breaking the rules of Lent, but maybe I could go sweetless on 39 of Lent’s 40 days, and then go without sweets one extra day after Lent officially ends. Of course, that means I would have to put an asterisk by my accomplishment if I eat sweets on my birthday, for cheating just a smidgen smack dab in the middle of Lent. It would be as if I were a Major League Baseball steroid user in the 90’s. I’d have an asterisk by my stats. Asterisk, asterisk, asterisk. ✳️